


Depth

by INMH



Series: after the evacuation (pacifist ending) [20]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Cameos, Drama, F/F, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Leadership, M/M, Past Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Romance, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-27 17:31:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15690072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: Simon does not want to be a leader again, even if it's just a few weeks. But for Markus's sake, he will.(Day One: Surprise, Surprise, Everything Goes to Hell.)





	Depth

**Author's Note:**

> 8/18 EDIT: It occurred to me that I hinted at this, but neglected to clarify it: Fiona is Blue-Haired Traci, and Brie is her girlfriend (Red-Haired Traci?)

When Simon said he’d wanted Markus to rest, this wasn’t what he’d had in mind.  
  
“Simon,” Markus said, eyeing Simon pointedly, propped up on one elbow on the bed. “Think. Who’s going to lead Jericho?”  
  
“Josh and North.”  
  
“And who’s going to be the tie-breaker when they inevitably start clashing on policy?”  
  
“…Chloe?” Simon suggested weakly. Markus’s eyebrows slowly rose on his head until Simon groaned, covering his face. “I’m not a leader, Markus. I thought I’d made that clear when we first met.”  
  
“You’re better at it than you give yourself credit for.”  
  
“You don’t _know,_ ” Simon moaned, embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a whine at the end. “You weren’t there for any of it. Josh and North may butt heads, but at least they get things done.” Markus stared at him, not answering. “Sometimes.” Markus kept staring at him, and Simon smacked his arm. “ _Stop._ ”  
  
“Josh and North- even if they’ve been getting on better lately- have too much trouble compromising with one another. They butt heads, and things don’t get done,” Markus said calmly, “And Chloe is too new at this. She’s a natural, but she spent nearly twenty years alone with Elijah Kamski and two others of her model. I don’t want to throw her into the deep-end by asking her to not only take control of Jericho, but manage Josh and North’s clashes too.”  
  
Simon could feel his stress creeping higher in spite of his best efforts to keep it in check. Everything Markus was saying made sense: Chloe had already reported to them that North and Josh, though they’d been much calmer with one another lately, had been having trouble coming to a consensus on certain things. They were accustomed to Markus finding the middle ground for whatever either of them was arguing, having the final word on it (something, Simon sensed, that relieved them both even if they didn’t admit it), and were hesitant to make any bigger decisions that could reflect that inability to compromise without his input. Chloe had been in Jericho for over two months now, but she was still too reserved, still too unwilling to engage in confrontation, and that was not a personality that could effectively balance Josh and North’s stronger, sharper personalities.  
  
Simon empathized.  
  
But as it was, in lieu of Markus returning to Jericho, Simon was the next best option for offering a balanced view. And Markus was _not_ going back to Jericho just yet, not until the end of January, not until he’d undergone some of the repairs recommended to him by one of the technicians because the stubborn bastard of an android had _literally_ burned himself out with stress since November. Carl passing away shortly before Christmas had been the straw that had broken the camel’s back, and now that Simon had Markus actually resting, he wanted to keep him that way until he’d been properly repaired and looked after.  
  
In retrospect, he’d done this to himself.  
  
Markus edged forward on the bed, arms curling around Simon tightly. The sleeve of his shirt tickled Simon’s nose. “ _This_ is a change,” He mumbled into Simon’s shoulder, “Usually it’s you calming me down.” He kissed the back of his head. “You’ll do fine. I have confidence in you.”  
  
Simon knew that; he just didn’t have a great deal of confidence in himself.  
  
He hadn’t been Jericho’s original leader.  
  
The original leader had come and gone long before he’d gotten to the old, abandoned ship. Simon had merely outlasted the androids that had come before him, had been careful enough to keep himself alive, had been gentle and level-headed, had been the kind of person that was easy to talk to and work with. He’d been less of a leader and more of a crisis-manager, coming up with solutions for the day-to-day problems in Jericho and doing his best to avoid complete catastrophe.  
  
That- at least in Simon’s mind- wasn’t leading. It was barely keeping their heads above water.  
  
Markus had been the one to change things. Markus had been the one to come in and start coming up with plans, started daring to poke the hornet’s nest that was Detroit’s human population and inspire other androids to deviate, to stand up for what they’d deserved. Markus had a talent for leadership, had Simon’s level-headedness, had Josh’s natural tendency towards compassion, and North’s willingness to get dirty when things needed to get dirty. He was great at what he did- that’s why he’d burned himself out doing it, because he’d known he was needed and didn’t want to disappoint.  
  
Before things had really developed between them, Simon had been both amazed and ashamed by Markus’s success, because it had thrown his own failures into a bright and unavoidable light. How had he never thought of these things? How had he never had the balls to steal crates from a Cyberlife warehouse? How had he never thought to recruit androids that could help them survive better? It wasn’t Markus’s fault- he’d never once blamed Simon, even complimenting him for keeping the androids of Jericho alive as best he could- but Simon had felt inferior, felt an ugly, burning sense of guilt and shame for not doing better than he had.  
  
Now Markus wanted him to step in again, more or less as a leader?  
  
He’d earned that position. He’d won their peoples’ trust. Simon couldn’t just step in and hope for things to go well.  
  
But he would, because Markus had asked and Markus asked for so goddamn little.  
  
“Alright, alright,” Simon grumbled, “I’ll do it.”  
  
Markus hugged him tighter, crushed him pleasantly with his weight.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
“I tolerate you.”  
  
“Liar.”  
  
[---]  
  
Simon dared to hope that the first day, at least, would be uneventful.  
  
Was that too much to ask?  
  
Was it really asking for the moon and the goddamn _stars_ for his first day as Markus’s stand-in for things to be calm?  
  
Was his life _that much_ of a cosmic joke that he couldn’t just start off with peace this _one_ time?  
  
“Simon! Good to see you, glad you’re back, _we have a problem._ ”  
  
Yup. Apparently it was.  
  
“Nice to see you too, Josh,” Simon said wearily, dragging his fingers through his hair. “What’s going on?”  
  
Josh motioned for him to follow him to the meeting room, and Simon’s heart sank. If they were going to the meeting room- where the TV was- it probably meant that something newsworthy had happened, and that was just… Just so very much _not_ what Simon needed today, not what _any_ of them needed, but especially not him on his first day at this. North was already there, watching the TV with a tense expression; her legs were crossed, and she was swinging her foot nervously. When Simon came in, she looked up and sighed with relief. “Thank fuck. Have you seen this?”  
  
“Seen what-?”  
  
Oh no.  
  
**VIGILANTE ANDROIDS CLASH WITH ANTI-ANDROID PROTESTORS.**  
  
No. No, no, no, no, of all the things that could have happened, this was one of the worst ones. Markus had been worried about it for weeks, that someone- human or android- would do something stupid, that someone would mouth off or shove or throw a punch and that things would escalate from there. Nobody, him least of all, underestimated just how quickly they could find themselves in a State of Emergency again. Their opponents were just waiting for the opportunity to strike.  
  
And now they had one.  
  
“Who struck first?”  
  
“Humans,” North supplied. “Some idiot had a few too many and decided to mouth off to a TR400.”  
  
Oh _no._ TR400s were built like human-shaped trains: Big as all-get-out and ridiculously physically powerful. Punch a TR400 and all you’d probably do was break your hand; he, on the other hand, could knock you through a brick wall with his little finger. “Anyone we know?”  
  
“Guy by the name of Ricky.” North looked between Josh and Simon, and then nodded when they didn’t speak. “Yeah, I don’t recognize him either. But I guess things escalated, and apparently this guy went at him with a crowbar and actually managed to knock him around a bit. I guess Ricky got his friends to come help, and the idiot human got _his_ friends to come help…” She waved her hand vaguely. “You get it. Eventually it turned into this shit. Chloe did some poking around, and it looks like that asshole David and some ST300 chick Alexa have taken over and made it into a ‘fuck humans’ thing. Some not-so-vaguely-worded threats have been made too.”  
  
Great. Wonderful.  
  
There had been a fair number of androids that were discontent with the way things had turned out after the revolution. A significant number, a minority that had voted against the Clean Slate Act that had pardoned androids and humans both for their crimes against one another prior to the Act’s implementation in December, had been speaking out against the human government and against Markus and the other android leaders across the country for- what they viewed as- betraying their people by even _considering_ allowing humans to get away with everything they’d done to androids over the last twenty years.  
  
Simon knew of David because of a confrontation Markus had had with him after the Clean Slate Act had been voted on and approved. He’d been quiet ever since- or at least, he hadn’t done anything with his name or face attached to it- and now was the first time since that confrontation that any of them could definitively attach an instance of troublemaking to him. Alexa- Simon didn’t know much about her, beyond the fact that she was preaching the same message and had a habit of harassing androids that continued to find pleasure or employment in the things they’d been programmed for.  
  
“Threats to who?”  
  
“Humans. Uh…” North made a face. “Something about watching their backs, and that the android revolution wasn’t over, that next time the streets will be running red instead of blue…”  
  
**[STRESS LEVEL 65%]**  
  
_Oh God, fuck this._  
  
Simon sucked in a deep breath. What would Markus do?  
  
“Okay, so… We need to get on top of this and issue a statement. We-”  
  
“Done,” North said.  
  
Simon and Josh froze. “Done?”  
  
“Yeah."  
  
Simon tried to keep a straight face even though he felt dangerously close to screaming. “And what did you say to them?”  
  
“I said that David and Alexa and their buddies are a bunch of self-righteous idiots who have taken it upon themselves to behave like a bunch of assholes, that we’re not associated with them in any way, that we don’t condone their actions or any of the idiotic things they’ve said, and that if they’re smart they’ll invest in therapy like the rest of us to deal with their unresolved human problems.”  
  
Josh and Simon stared at her.  
  
North shrugged. “I’m paraphrasing.”  
  
Well, it wasn’t quite as bad as Simon had been expecting, so there was that.  
  
“You could have been a _little_ more tactful,” Josh suggested.  
  
“Look, if we don’t make it _aggressively_ clear that we’re not associated with those idiots, we’re going to end up taking the heat for the things they do. Trust me, the sharks are already circling and we need there to be _no_ ambiguity about our position.”  
  
“She’s right,” Simon said quickly before the reasonable debate could turn into something more combative. “It’s probably better that nobody be confused about what our stance on them is. The faster the public gets a definitive answer, the less likely there are to be a lot of rumors about us and how we’re viewing it.”  
  
“Now we just need answers about these guys,” Josh said, nodding to the TV. “I don’t know much about David, but-”  
  
“Done.”  
  
Simon made a little noise, and he clenched his fists and shut his eyes. “North?” He asked, voice strained.  
  
“Fiona and Brie have it covered. They’ve got someone on the fourth floor who might be able to cough up some information.”  
  
“North,” Josh groaned, “Did you ask them to-?”  
  
“Don’t,” Simon said swiftly. “Don’t. Let’s just go handle this.”  
  
[---]  
  
It didn’t take long for Simon to get to the fourth floor.  
  
If- God help them all- North had asked Fiona and Brie to kidnap someone, it was better that he get there and let her go as quickly as possible, maybe throw in some pleading that she not go to the police.  
  
How had this day gone so bad so fast?  
  
Simon didn’t bother knocking, just flung open the door and looked around. Fiona and Brie were leaning against the wall, arms crossed, glaring at a girl in a chair in the middle of the room. She was a WR400, the same series as they were, but with brown hair instead of blue or red. She gave him an icy look when he stepped into the room, lip curling into a slight sneer. “You must be Simon.”  
  
“And you must be…?”  
  
“Laney,” Fiona offered flatly. “WR400, formerly of the Eden Club. We used to be friends.”  
  
“Oh, you mean before you two abandoned the rest of us and ran off to be together, like a little fairytale?” Laney asked in a mocking sing-song voice, eyes wide as she clasped her hands together. “The two little android girls running off into the sunset, to live happily ever after? Gag me. With friends like you, who needs enemies?”  
  
“Fuck you,” Fiona snapped back.  
  
“North,” Simon said, and North got the gist without anything else. She ushered Fiona and Brie out of the room, throwing a sneer of her own at Laney before she went. Josh closed the door behind them, leaving Simon alone with Laney, which… He hadn’t intended on happening, but oh well, he’d just have to work with it. “You don’t seem eager to be here, so I’ll cut to the chase: Are you associated with David and Alexa, and that trouble they were starting downtown?”  
  
Laney sniffed. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”  
  
“I’d appreciate your perspective regardless,” Simon pressed, “I’d especially like to know what they and their followers hope to accomplish by threatening the human population of Detroit.”  
  
“They _hope_ to actually do something about those bastards stepping all over us like they did before,” Laney snarled, “Unlike Markus, who’s apparently willing to pretend it never happened.”  
  
Simon wasn’t going to take the bait she’d laid out there. The Clean Slate Act simply meant that androids could not bring legal charges against humans for crimes committed prior to the Act’s implementation, and vice-versa; it did _not_ mean that androids were required to forget what had been done to them for the last two decades, and it did not mean that they were required to put up with it anymore. “And do they plan to use violence to meet those ends?”  
  
“So what if they do?”  
  
“So I’d prefer not to see months of hard work go down the drain because of a group of disgruntled androids,” Simon said.  
  
“ _You don’t get it!_ ” Laney jumped out of her seat, advancing on Simon furiously. He didn’t move, braced himself for a blow, but she didn’t throw one. “You have no idea what it was to be used by humans, to be beaten and broken and- and _fucked_ by them with no choice! And then we’re just supposed to let that go?! We’re just supposed to _forget_ what they did to us? _Fuck you!_ ”  
  
**[STRESS LEVEL 85%]**  
  
Simon was trying to keep calm and failing. It was rare for him to encounter uglier reminders of his time with his owners in day-to-day life, but this was probably one of the more blatant ones. Simon had spent most of his time caring for his owners’ young, sick son, Aaron- a task that had delighted him until Aaron’s untimely death. The rest of his time had been spent being used as a high-priced sex-toy by Aaron’s mother, Amy, when her husband was out of the house and her son was otherwise occupied. They were barely noticeable to anyone who wasn’t looking for them, but Simon still had small scars over his torso and… _other_ areas from his time with Amy.  
  
For Laney to imply that he didn’t know what it was to be used that way, especially when it was laughably common knowledge that many household androids had been used for sex by their owners, rankled him. Simon’s better nature knew that she was traumatized, that she was caught up in her own problems and couldn’t see anyone else’s, but his patience was already being tested today and it was a struggle to come up with a response that did not sound as unrelentingly bitter as he felt.  
  
“My advice to you,” Simon said coolly, voice even and quiet, “Would first be to not assume you have _any_ idea what another android’s been through. Just because I’m not an HR400 doesn’t mean I don’t know what it’s like to be _used_.” He gave her a pointed look, and though she didn’t respond, Simon thought maybe he saw some comprehension in her eyes. “Second,” he continued, “I cannot recommend enough that you avoid contact with David and Alexa in the future. I empathize with you, Laney, and would like to see you find some peace- but if you get caught tangling with them after the things they and their followers were preaching today, you’ll find yourself in a jail-cell guarded by humans who don’t give a damn what you’ve been through or why you feel the way you do. They are _looking_ for a reason to come after us again, and people like David and Alexa are giving them that reason on a silver platter. Do yourself a favor and sit down with one of the KL900s and work out your feelings. Nobody said you had to forgive and forget what was done to you. You just can’t bring legal charges against the humans for it- just like they can’t bring charges against Fiona for the human she killed trying to escape the Eden Club.”  
  
Laney didn’t look mollified, exactly, but she did seem a bit calmer, perhaps a little more willing to reexamine what she’d said and believed. “Can I go now?”  
  
Simon stepped aside and gestured to the door.  
  
He walked out behind her, wincing as she stepped past Fiona and Brie without so much as a word. North glared after her, and Josh kept a hand on her shoulder like he thought she might go after her. “Brat,” She grunted, crossing her arms and leaning back against Josh’s chest- oddly intimate behavior for two people that had never had trouble staying out of each other’s personal bubbles before.  
  
Fiona’s head was on Brie’s shoulder; they were holding hands, fingers entwined, and between them and Josh and North’s curiously cozy behavior, Simon found himself yearning for Markus. “What the fuck was I supposed to do, bring the whole club with me? I didn’t even know she was deviant!”  
  
“She’s just bitter and looking to put it on you,” North grunted.  
  
“We should try to convince her to see one of the KL900s,” Josh suggested. “Maybe they can help her work through her anger.”  
  
“I can do that too. A lot faster than them, too,” Fiona growled.  
  
Brie kissed the top of her head. “Chill.”  
  
“She wasn’t the most enthusiastic conversationalist,” Simon said, rubbing his eyes. “She didn’t give me much beyond reinforcing the idea that the people we’re dealing with are willing to get violent to get what they want.”  
  
“And what is it they want, exactly?” Brie asked. “Android dominance?”  
  
“I assume.”  
  
“I don’t even like humans and I know that’s a losing battle,” North grumbled. “Like I said before: _Idiots._ ”  
  
Someone rounded the corner, and for a split second Simon thought that maybe Laney had come back for round two. But the long, bright blonde hair was an immediate identifier for Chloe, and she approached their group with apprehension written all over her face. “Simon,” She said, and then stopped, hesitant.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“Uh…” Chloe looked at them all nervously. “It’s the FBI. They want to talk to- Well, they want to talk to Markus.”  
  
Of course they did.  
  
[---]  
  
So, Simon’s life was a joke.  
  
Some malicious deity had apparently decided that Simon was the one he was going to get his jollies from. He was a failure as a leader, a position he now found himself forced into by need; his first day back had started with terrorist threats and a serious PR problem as far as androids were concerned; and now the FBI was on their doorstep, looking for answers.  
  
Oh, but not just _any_ FBI agents. Oh no. That would be too simple.  
  
There were two agents seated at the table in the meeting room, and one of them was the very same Agent Perkins that had led the attack on Jericho, as well as the assault on the barricade in Hart Plaza during that last, hail-mary protest of theirs. He was the same bastard that had threatened Markus and tried to lure him into a deal that he would have almost certainly reneged on the moment it became safe to do so. The same bastard that had ordered a soldier to lob a grenade at Markus as he’d been speaking to them.  
  
And now Simon had to deal with him.  
  
“Agents,” He said calmly, looking between the two of them with what he hoped was a confident expression.  
  
“Afternoon,” The second agent said easily, rising to shake Simon’s hand. He was easily at least fifteen years older than Perkins, with dark hair peppered with strands of gray. “Don’t think we’ve met, I’m-”  
  
“Where’s Markus?” Perkins interrupted. He did not rise to shake Simon’s hand, nor did he bother properly introducing himself, and that was fine because Simon didn’t want to touch him or pretend that he was worthy of banal pleasantries.  
  
“He’s not here today,” Simon replied, forcing his hands flat onto the tabletop rather than clenching them the way he wanted to. Josh, North, and Chloe all took seats at the table as well, but none of them moved to talk.  
  
“Call him in, then.”  
  
Simon gave Perkins a chilly smile. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”  
  
“I do.”  
  
“I respectfully disagree.”  
  
“Look.” Perkins leaned forward, hands folded on the table, and he looked every bit the smug, self-satisfied piece of shit he’d been the night Simon had seen him at the barricade. He had a truly punchable face, and Simon was satisfied to remember Markus telling him that Connor had told _him_ that Hank Anderson had slugged him right in the nose when he’d been at the Detroit Police Department before the raid. “I already feel like an idiot sitting down with a bunch of glorified tin-cans for a talk. I’m not gonna waste my time talking to the scrap-metal when I could be talking to the real deal. Call Markus in.”  
  
“ _Scrap metal._ ”  
  
Everyone froze.  
  
North stared at Perkins without blinking, an unreadable expression on her face. Then, slowly, she rose from her chair. Perkins and the other agent regarded her mildly, completely unaware of the fact that everything about her posture and facial expression, in that moment, was tantamount to hearing a tornado siren going off outside. Simon, Josh, and Chloe looked at North with apprehension, both anxious and morbidly curious to see what she would do.  
  
And for a long, terrifying moment, she did nothing.  
  
Simon’s mind raced with the possibilities: If she was going to yell, she would have by now, so chances were Perkins was about to lose some teeth.  
  
North pushed her chair back into place, still staring at Perkins, and then walked to the door that led into the next office. She stepped into the next room, shutting the door behind her.  
  
Then there was silence.  
  
Simon, Josh, and Chloe all let loose the breaths they’d been holding, necessary or not. Every part of one’s self tended to tense up when they were anticipating a massive explosion.  
  
“Okay,” Perkins remarked, cocking an eyebrow at the closed door and glancing between it and Simon. “I dunno what the fuck that was, but whatever, where was I- Oh, right! _Call Markus in_. Now.”  
  
Simon didn’t bother with the fake smile this time. He’d never intended to call Markus in, but if Perkins was going to be an asshole about it, Simon was going to make absolute sure that _nobody_ called Markus. “I’m not calling Markus in. There’s nothing so important that you can’t say it to us.”  
  
“There is, actually,” Perkins said, voice raising slightly, “And I’m getting tired of having to repeat myself. So if I’m gonna be made to sit down and have a diplomatic talk with Markus’s little _fucktoy_ , then-”  
  
**[STRESS LEVEL 95%]**  
  
_BANG._  
  
Simon slammed his fist on the desk, the resulting sound startling everyone in the room. He fixed Perkins with a deadly look and said, “Listen to me, and listen to me well you smug, sanctimonious prick, because I’m only going to say this once: Markus is not here. You will not be speaking with him today. You are dealing with _me_ \- and for the record, it’s none of your business what I am to Markus, _fucktoy_ or not. It’s also worth mentioning that unlike the night of the protest, we are not at your goddamn mercy, and so I suggest you drop that fucking attitude you brought in with you, this idea that I owe you anything more than a few words before kicking you out. I don’t want you here- in fact, I want you gone as soon as _fucking_ possible, and I would like to take whatever course of action brings that about fastest. So you are welcome to speak to _me_ , or you are welcome to _fuck off._ Whichever you pick, I’m not going to lose sleep over it.”  
  
Josh was gaping.  
  
Chloe had both hands pressed over her mouth.  
  
North’s sudden, hysterical, gut-busting laughter was muffled but still quite audible from the next room.  
  
Perkins was blinking slowly at Simon, expression mostly blank… Save for the small shock of _surprise_ in his eyes.  
  
“Golly, Perkins,” The older agent drawled, a hint of a Boston accent coloring his words as he tried and failed to stop himself from grinning, “I don’t think he likes you very much.”  
  
“Shut up,” Perkins spat.  
  
“Leave, Dick,” The other agent said. “It’s obvious you can’t control yourself and mind your manners, so you can step out while the grownups talk.”  
  
Perkins’s mouth opened in a snarl. “ _I_ -”  
  
The older agent gave him a look that could have frozen molten lava. “Perkins,” He said, any trace of amusement or teasing gone from his voice. “Get out. _Now._ ”  
  
Perkins’s glare was equally venomous, and it spiked to new levels when he glanced back at Simon, obviously blaming him for this turn of events. He stalked out the door, thankfully mindful that he didn’t accidentally find his way into the office North had gone into; that would have ended badly for both of them. Once the door had slammed shut behind him, the second agent turned and smiled easily at Simon.  
  
“Don’t think I had a chance to properly introduce myself,” He said, “Norman Jayden, FBI. Sorry about…” Jayden waved his hand towards the door. “… _that._ Nobody in the department likes him, y’know. Perkins is a real fuckwad of a human-being. His first name’s Richard, and we’ve been calling him ‘Dick the Prick’ behind his back for about ten years. The best part of him dribbled down his mother’s thigh in 1994. He’s got a habit of getting punched in the face in very public places without anyone seeing a damn thing.”  
  
North’s laughter grew louder and harder.  
  
Simon blinked rapidly, uncertain as to what to say. “Well- I mean… I guess so long as we’re on the same page.”  
  
“I think we are.” Jayden grinned a crooked grin and pulled out an old-fashioned notepad and pen, leaning back in the chair. “So, tell me about your beef with these androids. Don’t leave anything out.”  
  
[---]  
  
The day could have gone worse, Simon supposed as he leaned against the bus window and watched the city roll by. It definitely could have gone worse.  
  
The police could have responded more aggressively to David and Alexa’s crew.  
  
There could have been riots.  
  
North could have been a lot blunter with that statement to the press.  
  
Perkins could have shown up at Jericho alone.  
  
Laney could have accused them of kidnapping her.  
  
A bomb could have gone off in Jericho and killed everyone.  
  
Aliens could have taken over the planet and massacred them all.  
  
Simon lightly banged his head against the window.  
_  
This was a horrible idea._  
   
[---]  
   
Simon had never been so relieved to be home.  
  
He wasn’t sure when he’d started thinking of Carl’s house as home- it had probably started sometime between that first time Markus had brought him there and right after Carl’s death, when he’d spent so much time there alone with Markus. Jericho had been home for nearly two years, but it had never been a happy one, filled with death and tension and worry on a constant basis. This home was calmer, quieter.  
  
And it had Markus.  
  
The door opened.  
  
“ _Welcome home, Simon._ ”  
  
Simon smiled weakly. Markus had programmed it to do that.  
  
He stepped inside, hung his jacket on the hook and barely resisted dragging his bag on the floor beside him as he walked into the living room. “Markus?” Something clattered in the kitchen, and Simon paced lazily over, door opening before him and revealing-  
  
“Markus, what the hell?!”  
  
Markus was leaning against the counter, the skin of his stomach deactivated and the plating removed, revealing wires and gears and all manners of things that made up an android’s body. Markus had dropped a set of pliers that he, from the looks of it, had probably been using to repair some of the damaged wiring in his body, because Simon was apparently in love with a goddamn _moron._  
  
“Hey, Simon, how was Jericho?”  
  
“ _Oh_ my-” Simon dropped his bag and rushed forward, knocking Markus’s hands away from his wiring. “Please tell me you’re not trying some half-assed attempt at self-repair, _please_ just wait until the technicians can repair you!”  
  
Markus sighed as Simon reattached the wires, returned everything to its proper place and then closed the plating, eggshell white disappearing under dark skin. “You looked so miserable last night,” Markus confessed, “I was hoping I could just fix a few things and maybe come back on my own a little sooner.”  
  
God, Simon was selfish, fucking _selfish_ , he’d been the one to beg Markus to stay home and look after himself in the first place, and here he was being miserable and obstinate when Markus really wasn’t asking for much, just for Simon to pull his head out of his ass and _lead_ for a little while-  
  
“Simon? Hey, come on, calm down.”  
  
Simon realized he’d started shaking, trembling from head to foot. He covered his face with both hands.  
**  
[STRESS LEVEL 80%]**  
  
Markus’s arms curled around his shoulders and waist, squeezed him tightly. “What happened? Was it really that bad?”  
  
“One day,” Simon mumbled into his hands, “One day, and I completely lost my shit at an FBI agent. I don’t know how you keep your cool like you do. I don’t know how you do _any_ of this without self-destructing on a daily basis. I couldn’t handle _one_ day.”  
  
“Which FBI agent?”  
  
“Perkins. The guy with him, Jayden, he was good.”  
  
“Then I don’t see the problem.”  
  
“Well, I provoked a powerful government agent who already doesn’t like us- and this is with him investigating a potential android-terrorism organization- I nearly sent Josh into heart-failure, I probably traumatized Chloe, and North- Actually, North and Jayden might have been the only ones to leave with smiles on their faces. I don’t think North’s ever taken to a human so quickly.”  
  
“Why’d you lose your temper at him?”  
  
“He said I was your ‘fucktoy’.”  
  
Markus pulled away, his mouth falling open in shock, expression darkening immediately. “That mother _fucking-_ ”  
  
“My blood boiled. All I could think of was- was- I don’t have to tell you, you already know.” It was all Simon had ever been to Amy: A _fucktoy_ that she could use and abuse whenever she saw fit. Perkins dredging up that same concept and applying it to him again in the context of his relationship with Markus had brought Simon from zero to a hundred in no time at all.  
  
“I’m gonna put my foot up his ass,” Markus snapped. “I am going to detach my leg at the goddamn knee and ram it up his ass.”  
  
“I appreciate the imagery, but please don’t do that.”  
  
“I can, and I will. No one speaks to you that way. _No one._ ”  
  
The intended violence aside, it really was a sweet gesture.  
  
“Thank you, Markus. Now let me go before you crush me.”  
   
[---]  
   
Simon changed, Markus put on a movie, and they curled up together in the living room to watch it.  
  
Markus did this _thing_ when he was troubled, a sort of aggressive cuddling where he held Simon a little more tightly than usual, where he really insisted on being up close and personal with him. Simon wouldn’t mind it in the least if it weren’t something Markus did when something was bothering him.  
  
“Maybe I should go back,” Markus muttered halfway through the movie, head resting on top of Simon’s. “Maybe I should just come back and try to keep calm until I get the wiring replaced.”  
  
“ _No_ ,” Simon insisted. “I can handle it.”  
  
“You hate this. You really don’t like being in charge, do you?”  
  
“No, I don’t. But I can handle it for now. Today was just a particularly bad day.” A ridiculously bad day, but again, it could have been worse.  
  
“You’re sure? I don’t want you to end up like me.” He was really clinging to Simon now, nose pressed into his hair.  
  
How could Simon let him go back to Jericho when he was already stressing himself out again?  
  
“It’s fine, Markus. I’ll be fine.” He elbowed him a little. “Now be quiet, I want to see what happens.”  
  
He was lying. Another day or two like this and he’d be on the verge of a breakdown. Part of the reason why he’d hated being the de facto leader of Jericho prior to Markus’s arrival was because the stress of serious decision-making had driven him up the wall, had turned him into a silent wreck; back then, he’d been good at keeping himself together even when he’d been torn up inside.  
  
Nowadays, Simon knew he’d fall apart.  
  
And he really, _really_ didn’t want that.  
  
But for Markus, he’d do it.  
  
Markus was quiet for a few minutes. Then, apropos of nothing, he kissed Simon’s head and said, “I love you.”  
  
A smile flickered on Simon’s lips. “I tolerate and love you too.”  
  
“I’ll take it.”  
   
-End

**Author's Note:**

> YOU BET YOUR ASS I GAVE NORMAN-FRICKIN'-JAYDEN A CAMEO IN THIS SERIES I LOVE THAT GODDAMN NERD
> 
> (I was starting my first run-through of the PS4 digital version of Heavy Rain and realized that Norman would only be 61 in 2038/early 2039, so he could abso-LUTELY still be an FBI agent during the android revolution, and I fancy him a Glinda the Good Witch to Perkins's Wicked Witch of the West
> 
> I also fancy him the saltiest senior agent ever, salt to rival hank even)
> 
> Also I keep track of how many characters get to be the focus of the stories in this series (Markus is in the lead, but Connor's gonna be overtaking him soon) and I realized that I only had Simon be the 'lead' of one story so far, so I figured I'd do something with him AND give him a chance to be a little badass.


End file.
